


It's Your Flower

by FaintBlueIvy



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cute, F/M, Flowers, Love, Sequel to Starting Again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21833563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaintBlueIvy/pseuds/FaintBlueIvy
Summary: “So, you mean, flowers remind you of certain people?” She questions, her head tilted to a side.“Definitely! Like, when I see lavender, it reminds me of my Mom.” He says gently before bursting out loudly,“And then, the sunflowers! They are so bright and colorful that they scream Himawari to me!” He grins like a happy kid and Sarada is unable to hold back a smile.“So, you suppose that there must be a flower for me too? Something that reminds you solely of…me?” she asks, with slight hesitation and slight hope.....Where Boruto says that flowers remind him of his favourite people and Sarada wonders which one is hers.
Relationships: Uchiha Sarada/Uzumaki Boruto
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	It's Your Flower

**Author's Note:**

> Ah,, I wrote it a long ago but forgot to post it here! Sorry, my bad!  
> It is a sort of sequel to Starting Again, but can be read as stand alone too! I hope you can enjoy it!

##  **It’s Your Flower**

“I’m late! Damn!”

Boruto hisses under his breath as his feet pound against the floor loudly. As he races through the stairs and then the corridors, he sees that barely a few people pass by him, noting how the school was almost empty now. As soon as the plank of 2 A comes into sight, his speed slows down and he pushes the door open immediately. There she was, sitting on her seat calmly in an empty classroom. The curtain of her dark hair was blocking her face from his gaze.

“Sarada!” He calls out and she immediately whirls around to look at him.

“Oh, you’re here,” she says nonchalantly.

“It’s late! You shouldn’t have waited for me!”

He crosses the distance between them, plopping on the seat in front of her, still slightly out of breath.

“You asked me to, didn’t you?” She laughs.

“Err…I didn’t think I’d be this late. You should have gone home.” He insists again, peeking over the notes sprawled on her desk.

“Hmm, but you still came to check.” She gives him a knowing smile, “And you did run!”

Boruto immediately averts his gaze, “I didn’t! I just did exercise!”

“Sure. _Exercise._ ” she says with a smug smirk.

They immediately lock down on a glaring contest which - Boruto notes – was becoming quite a norm nowadays. And to be honest, he didn’t mind…peering into her eyes – which were so beautifully expressive, capable of projecting her delicate feelings. He is the one to blink away first, unable to handle the heat creeping up his neck.

“Come on. Let’s not stay here.”

He doesn’t even give her the time to respond as he slings her bag over his shoulder and proceeds to exit the classroom. He chuckles at her protests as she scrambles up, gathering her notes and running after him.

“Give me my bag!” She pouts, still trying to balance the notebooks and sheets in her arms.

“Nah. You carry that troublesome package.” His hand waves at the mess she’s carrying. “And leave this to me.” He points to her bag hanging on his shoulder. She narrows her eyes but doesn’t argue anymore.

They trudge down the same stairs that he had raced up a few minutes ago when Sarada asks, “Where are we going exactly?”

“Our secret base, of course,” he exclaims gleefully and Sarada suppresses the incessant urge to roll her eyes. Despite it all, a tiny smile curls upon her lips helplessly.

The ‘secret base’ he was referring to was their bench. Yes, that particular bench where she had treated his injuries and well, the place where they became friends, so it was theirs.

It was some distance away from their school, in a deserted park and barely any people passed by. It was a place where they could sit and relax together, without a worry in the world and know a lot more about each other. A safe haven, and a place to go to for them. 

As they walk through the school premises, Boruto waves to those who greet them and Sarada gives them all nods of acknowledgement and polite smiles.

Only eight minutes later, they are at the park. Boruto deposits both of their bags on the side and plops down. Sarada immediately follows after, placing the notes in between them. She rummages through some of them before pulling out a few sheets of paper stapled together and shoves them to him. At his questioning brow, she commands simply. “Read.”

_“Tanabata is celebrated to commemorate the romantic story of two lovers represented by the stars Vega and Altair who are only allowed to meet each other once a year as long as the skies are clear._

_It is celebrated on the 7th day of the 7th lunar month, which is July 7th in the modern calendar. Some places in Japan celebrate Tanabata on August 7th in accordance with the older Chinese calendar, which is where the legend originated._

_The most famous of all the Tanabata festivals is celebrated in Sendai on August 7th, but most of Japan recognizes July 7th.”_

Boruto stops, taking a breath before reading further everything on her notes with wide eyes.

_“Tanabata originated from a Chinese legend called Qixi and was brought to Japan in the 8th century. This is the story of two lovers. Princess Orihime, the seamstress, wove beautiful clothes by the heavenly river, represented by the Milky Way. Because Orihime worked so hard weaving beautiful clothes, she became sad and despaired of ever finding love. Her father, who was God of the heavens, loved her dearly and arranged for her to meet Hikoboshi, the cow herder who lived on the other side of the Milky Way. The two fell in love instantly and married. Their love and devotion was so deep that Orihime stopped weaving and Hikoboshi allowed his cows to wander the heavens._

_Orihime’s father became angry and forbade the lovers to be together, but Orihime pleaded with him to allow them to stay. He loved his daughter, so he decreed that the two star-crossed lovers could meet once a year–on the 7th day of the 7th month if Orihime returned to her weaving. On the first day they were to be reunited, they found the river (Milky Way) to be too difficult to cross. Orihime became so despondent that a flock of magpies came and made a bridge for her. It is said that if it rains on Tanabata-”_

Boruto halts reading out-loud, his eyes sweeping over the page. All it said was more about the story and rituals related to the festival.

“…Sarada?” He questions, vaguely gesturing toward the sheaf of papers in his hand, “We’re supposed to write a play here…not an essay.”

“I know that!” Sarada glares, half hissing and half yelling. “Read the next page idiot!”

He nods and turns the page over, eyes skimming through the material and then widening with each next page.

“You wrote the entire play all by yourself?!” He asks, feeling both in-credulousness and – if he were to be honest - quite impressed. 

“Most of it,” she says nonchalantly. “A few girls helped me through.” She admits, and Boruto has an inkling as to how much the girls might have ‘helped’ her. He shakes his head at her fondly and then pays attention to the rest of the reading left to be done. And he has to admit, every new line is nothing short of excellence.

“This is going to be a blast!” He exclaims excitedly. “We just need to execute it properly.”

Sarada nods in agreement, but when he questions, “Who’s going to be Hikoboshi?,” she can’t help but raise up her brows, a smirk dancing upon her lips.

“Class decided,” she shrugs. “You’ll be.”

“Oh– wait? What?! Why me?!” He wails, angry that he was chosen again.

“Everyone said that they wanted their hero to be the Hero of the drama.” Sarada snickers.

“But I don’t have enough time!” He yells, frantic.

“Everyone said that they were willing to wait after classes,” she says quietly, as if prepared for any excuses he had. 

“Arghhh! Now I can’t even have fun! I am overburdened. Thanks to a certain someone’s decisive vote to make me class representative for the festival.” He glares at her.

“Now, now, Boruto! Be a man!” She taps him on the shoulder patronizingly. “It will suit you, I’m sure.”

“Why-” he leans closer to her, blue eyes narrowing, “-do I feel like there was definitely some meddling done by a certain someone?”

“Oh? Are you trying to accuse me of this now?” She smirks, a playful look overcoming her features.

“I never said it was you,” he says as a matter-of-fact. “You admitted yourself!” He finishes, waving his arm with flair of triumph.

“You insinuated it.” She stood up from her seat, slightly turning her head to look at him. “But what if I do admit that it was me?”

The question hangs in the air for several moments before Boruto yells, “I trusted you! But…you! You betrayed me! Why Sarada? How can you do something like that to me?”

“Well, I just figured… the more busy you got the less trouble you’d cause? Hehe!” She laughs a little, feeling a bit proud of herself for the small game she had played.

“Hehe.” He mimics her and she knows that she has to instantly run or it’ll be trouble for her.

“You! Come back here, now!” He shouts, hot on her tail as he chases her through the entire park. Their notes, books, and bags left behind on the bench, the empty park filled with their yelling and the shrieks of laughter. The vibrant orange sunset and their happiness together beautifully meld into a fond memory that deserves to be cherished forever.

…

“I was thinking…” He appears beside her out of nowhere on her walk to school the next morning.

“A very dangerous pastime,” she comments, hiding a smirk. He glares at her but she ignores it like a pro who has mastered the said art.

“About the script,” he continues, successfully catching her attention.

“What about it?” Her head tilts towards him in curiousity. 

“Maybe we should change it? Slightly? The scene where Hikoboshi first meets Orihime,” he suggests.

“Hmm? What do you want to change about it?”

“I was thinking about the cherry blossoms scene,” he says. “As well as that one line where he compares her beauty to the cherry blossoms around them.”

Sarada hums in understanding as they reach the classroom. She slides into her seat and retrieves the bundle of papers from her bag. Flipping through the pages she finally finds the part he was talking about.

“'Those cherry blossoms show your real beauty.’ this one?”

Boruto peeks over her shoulder and nods immediately.

“Yup! Cherry blossoms line is so overrated. Please say something more original or pick another flower.” He remarks.

Anyway, before she could say anything, the school bell chimes, echoing through the classroom.

“Hey, come on! The assembly won’t begin without us! Boruto grins, helping her stuff the papers into her bag again and then proceeding to grab her arm to drag her out of the class. 

…

The entire day passes by and Sarada still does not understand why Boruto doesn’t want cherry blossoms in the play. They were beautiful and delicate flowers, symbolizing spring and beauty, as well as fleetingness of happiness for Orihime and Hikoboshi. And she cannot think of anything better to express their tragic love story.

Cherry blossoms also meant renewal which felt like a gracious nod to the promise of meeting each other again every year for the star-crossed lovers. Cherry blossoms were perfect for the play, no doubt. But he probably had his reasons for not wanting them.

When school was over, she waits for him in the class like she normally does. He is by her side in a few minutes and both of them climb down the stairs. He is whistling nonchalantly but Sarada has her mind shooting questions.

“Why don’t you want the cherry blossoms?” She whispers, and then looks up at him, trying to observe any minute detail that might show his discomfort, “Is there a reason you don’t like them?”

He blinks twice before muttering, “It's… not that I don’t like them. It’s just that… they are not your flowers.” He explains as if she was supposed to know that.

“Oh,” she frowns a little before realization hits her “Wait. Wait, Boruto? Are you…under the impression that I’m the one playing Orihime?”

“You’re… not?” He questions, brows pinched in confusion. 

“No, I’m not. I forgot to mention, didn’t I? Sorry about that.” She shakes her head.

“It’s alright,” he says, flustered. “But who is Orihime then?”

“Sumire-san.”

“Ehhhh??? The class rep? Why?”

“Um, we thought she fits the image of a beautiful, delicate and sad princess better than anyone. And traditionally, the Princess had long hair and Sumire-san definitely is the one with the longest hair among all of us. And well… a bunch of other factors as well.”

“I-it makes sense now… I guess. But I-I really thought that you were playing Orihime.” He nods enthusiastically, eyes never staying in one place, his cheeks still a little pink, and his arm comes up to rub the back of his neck.

“Anyway, I do not have that princess beauty to be honest.” She confesses, startling him for a second before he hums gently.

“Yeah, now that I think about it…you don’t.” Boruto agrees, and for some reason, Sarada feels a sting of pain shooting through her heart. But then he gives her a look, blue eyes softening.

“Your beauty is more like that of a warrior.”

That faint admiration in his eyes makes a blush bloom on her cheeks.

“Well, if it’s class rep then cherry blossoms are fine,” he says with utter nonchalance before giving her a curt nod.

She nods in agreement before what he said finally registers in her mind. She halts in her steps. 

“What do you mean by that? Oy, Boruto, where are you going? Why are cherry blossoms fine for class rep but not for me?“ She yells at him but he’s already running down the corridor, shouting rambunctiously and roughhousing people like he ordinarily does.

…

The next morning when they meet, she voices out her questions.

“Why… why did you think cherry blossoms suit class rep and not me?” She does not want to admit it, but it felt unnerving for some reason.

“Wait… did I offend you or something?” He exclaims, slightly panicking, bending down to look at her.

“No! No! It’s nothing like that!” Sarada waves her arms defensively. “It’s just…I thought cherry blossoms are beautiful. I think…I was surprised?”

He straightens back, looking thoughtful, as if taking time to arrange his words carefully.

“It’s not that I don’t find them beautiful…well, it’s more like, the delicate beauty of cherry blossoms, when I see it, it doesn’t remind me of you. You need something bolder, more vibrant. I don’t know why I think like this, but I do.”

“So, you mean, flowers remind you of certain people?” She questions, her head tilted to a side.

“Definitely! Like, when I see lavender, it reminds me of my Mom.” He says gently before bursting out loudly,“And then, the sunflowers! They are so bright and colorful that they scream Himawari to me!” He grins like a happy kid and Sarada is unable to hold back a smile.

“So, you suppose that there must be a flower for me too? Something that reminds you solely of…me?” she asks, with slight hesitation and slight hope.

“I don’t know…which it is yet.” He admits. “The flower that reminds me of you…but I promise I’ll find it! Your flower!”

…

Sarada watches from the sidelines, speaking up her part when needed otherwise. Boruto was playing his part stunningly. She hadn’t imagined that he would be such a stellar actor. But then again, he’s always been unpredictable. 

And Sumire was no less. Her gentle demeanor and gracefulness fit well with Orihime’s soft and woefully tragic longing. The two of them together were absolutely captivating! The audience seemed to think that as well, with their wide eyes and jaws hanging.

There was a stirring caused up in audience when the Emperor of the heavens - Orihime’s father unleashed his anger towards the young couple separating them, and Sarada had to admit that Inojin played the role perfectly. He looked beautiful in his elegant clothes, and wrathful in his disposition.

The scene of separation was a painful one, but Orihime’s pining for her loved one was even worse. Sarada grabs the mike again and speaks her part.

“Months passed, but the princess could not return back to her weaving. The designs she made looked soulless now, her eyes dull with sadness. She would not speak, nor smile. So was her longing and love for Hikoboshi. Her father, the Emperor, could not bear seeing his precious child like that anymore. All his attempts to entice her with exquisite jewels, fine silks and lavish gardens failed. So, he finally made a decision~”

The next parts of the play went smoothly and all of the hard work they’ve put together in the making of this play seemed to work. The spectators clapped like crazy in the final scene where the two lovers were finally able to reunite.

As all the cast collects on the stage to present their gratitude to the viewers for their patience and cooperation, Boruto darts down the stage, grabbing Sarada’s wrist and drags her back to the main stage, a big wide grin on his face. When a lot of spectators immediately recognize her as the narrator of the play, she feels her heart thrum into her ears in resonance with the lovely cacophony.

And when Sumire, who was standing on the other side of Boruto gives her an encouraging smile which Sarada immediately returns and together, holding hands, they bow down to the audience and receive another heavy round of applause making Sarada feel as if all her efforts had received justice.

…

She walks through the decorated hallways of the school. The play was in for an immense success and every person they encountered seemed to praise their work. Sarada is elated. After working for continuous hours, at the end, they felt relieved now to finally be able to enjoy the cultural festival. Getting Sumire out of her elegant Kimono was a strenuous task but they had finally managed it without any serious mishaps.

Different classes had different scheduled stuff and Sarada could not wait to take a look around. The bag on her shoulders was heavy since it was loaded with hamburgers that class 1 C’s stall was selling. As she arrives near the classroom that had been given as the boys’ dress-room, almost all of them exit at once whining about how hungry they were. Her eyes flick around to catch a glimpse of a mop of golden hair but to no avail. Instead, she is noticed by someone else.

“Sarada?” Shikadai calls her out, gaining the attention of every boy in the group. She slides the bag off her shoulder and tosses it to him.

“Burgers.” It’s the only word she utters out before they attack the bag like rabid dogs, and she’s glad for a second that she’s not the one holding it anymore.

And in less than a minute, the bag is emptied.

“You guys didn’t save any for Boruto!” She complains to Shikadai and he smirks knowingly, jerking his chin to the small paper bag she had in her right hand.

“I would have saved him one if I hadn’t known that you’d already kept some for him away.”

Caught red-handed, Sarada flushes instantly and Shikadai laughs before gesturing to the room, tossing her bag back to her.

“He’s inside,” he says and leaves, waving a hand back at her.

…

When Sarada slides the door open, Boruto is in the middle of changing. His pants ride low on his hips and his back is turned towards her as he pulls his shirt up. Sarada feels color bloom upon her cheeks, biting her lower lip to ignore how his well defined muscles contour and move with his actions.

That’s when he notices her.

“Sa-Sarada?!” He squeaks and she yelps, jumping out of the room and slamming the door back into the place.

In merely thirty seconds, the sound of the door opening reaches her ears and Boruto comes to stand beside her. She is averting her gaze in shame from him.

“You know,” he taunts, “girls peeping on boys is as shameful as boys peeping on girls.”

“I wasn’t peeping,” she snaps, eyes flicking over his face and feels a weird happy rush in her stomach seeing how red his cheeks were.

“Sure you weren’t.” Even while blushing, his sass wasn’t going anywhere.

She pushes him inside the classroom in fake anger and shuts the door behind them.

…

They’re sitting together comfortably, him on the desk and Sarada on the bench, both of them having a burger in their hands as they calmly chew, eyes appreciating the beauty of the sun that was about to set.

“Thanks!” He raises his burger and talks with his mouth full, but Sarada does not have the energy to chide him.

“You did well, in the play,” she compliments, smiling gently. “Never messed up a single line and conducted your part very smoothly. I am impressed.”

He smirks and bows, “I aim for nothing else but to please, Ma’am.”

The silence stretches between them, devoid of any specific conversations but she feels content. Being with him was… like living with a box of surprises. Sometimes he’d be a whirlwind of activity and other times he’d be a quiet thinker. Whimsical, she’d say.

It is him who breaks the silence. “Hey, the other day, I visited Inojin’s mom’s flower shop,” he says, softly, as if not wanting to ruin the peace between them.

“Hmm?” She was not sure where he was going with this.

“I found it. Your flower, I mean.”

She whips her head around fast, eyes wide, and he just grins before jumping off the desk he was sitting on. He crosses the distance of a few seats to reach his own desk and starts rummaging through his backpack.

She watches him with curious eyes, feeling her heart beating rapidly. She wondered what kind of flower made him think of her. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t realise when he came to stand beside her, his arm wound around his back to hide whatever he was hiding.

She peers up at him through her lashes, excitement barely hidden in her eyes. And then he finally extends his arm in her direction. There, sitting on the top of his palm was…

A red camellia.

She feels her breath hitch in her throat, overwhelmed for a few moments before looking up at him again.

“Camellia is a spring flower, isn’t it? And the red color shows how spirited and passionate you are about your goals and also your bonds! The moment I saw this,” he smiled nostalgically, “I thought of you.”

Sarada feels a deep red blush painting her cheeks, her mind running mile a minute. She was no stranger to camellias. They were gorgeous flowers that always somehow soothed her heart. Especially, the red camellias… she knew what they meant. These red flowers had meaning - an amalgam of passion, desire and… Oh!

Oh!

Did he know?

“Y-you know,” she stutters, her onyx eyes fixing themselves on the beautiful red flower in her cupped palms “Red camellias…mean one more thing.”

It takes him only a fraction of second to curl his arm around her waist to pull her in. Sarada yelps loudly and he blurts out a ‘sorry’ before smashing their lips together. It takes her a moment to register what had happened but he’s already pulling away.

He never averts his gaze away from her, even as he is embarrassed like hell. His blue eyes, shimmering with warmth and affection make her lean into him even more. And the flower is still clutched in her hand.

“I know the meaning,” he tells her, still peering down at her. “Do you?”

Sarada does not hesitate to fist his shirt and drag him down to meet her lips again. This time, they are both prepared. Their lips move in perfect synchronization, tasting each other and melting into each other’s embrace. But the lack of oxygen makes them pull away soon after.

Sarada giggles, huffing for air.

“Do I?”

A moment of stunning quietness follows before they both burst out laughing, unable to hold it together. Sarada is deliriously happy, because how can she not be. This idiot was hers now.

He surprises her though, grabbing her slender wrist which held the flower and bringing it up to him. His lips gently brush her soft fingers, eyes still intently on her and she feels a tingling sensation rush all through her bones.

He smiles.

“It’s your flower.”

“Yes.” She smiles too.

_It is mine._

**Author's Note:**

> Well? I’m super excited to know about your thoughts for this fic. I wrote this in parts with a lot going on in my real life and honestly, I felt as if I had lost touch in. writing BoruSara. I hope this story was enjoyable enough to you all!
> 
> Btw, everything I mentioned about Camellias was true! Red camellias do symbolise passion or desire and of course, romantic love as well. They are even coupled with pink camellias to present romantic love.
> 
> And all the stuff about Tanabata? I got it from here! (https://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2283.html)
> 
> This story was fun for me to write, I hope it was for fun for you all to read as well! A cookie for for thoughts!!!


End file.
